


signs of life (we preserve, preserve)

by yawawoo



Series: MX: Half-Cooked Ideas [2]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Abandoned children, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, M/M, Mentions of corpses, Minor Character Death, This comes from a dark place within me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 19:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17873372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yawawoo/pseuds/yawawoo
Summary: [ex-soldiers Hyungwon x Minhyuk]Minhyuk understood that they weren’t in the best position for the worst possible outcomes, but he couldn’t just walk away as if they didn’t hear anything. And it was Hyungwon who stopped them, who heard the cry first. If Hyungwon was only going to be like this, he shouldn’t have stopped them in the first place.





	signs of life (we preserve, preserve)

**Author's Note:**

> Please read series description for details! :)
> 
> Unbeta'd.

They heard the faint cry because that day Hyungwon decided that they should visit their abandoned neighborhood in Gwangju to pay respects to their deceased families.

Hyungwon was the one who put his hand on Minhyuk’s chest, stopping him and putting a finger in front of his lips to hush the shorter man’s low humming. Minhyuk’s hand immediately went to the gun holstered on his right hip, eyes alert and listening for any sound that signaled threat.

The men didn’t hear the march of military boots or the whir of spy drones, but instead they could hear a faint cry. It sounded like an infant’s, and Minhyuk could feel his heart sink—his troubled look was mirrored on Hyungwon’s face as they looked at each other.

“Should we go check?” Minhyuk asked in a low voice, looking searchingly into the man’s eyes, glassed over from trying to think. Minhyuk wanted to smooth out Hyungwon’s frown.

“I don’t know. What if there’s just another group aside from us scouring the area?” Hyungwon said, grabbing Minhyuk’s hand and leading him to a rubble which was once a grand archway of a luxurious house. They crouched down and huddled close together under the shade, listening.

There was no sign of life in the deserted streets of one of Gwangju’s residential area, the one closest to where Hyungwon and Minhyuk used to live in as teenagers. They never really saw what the rest of Gwangju looked like after the occupation, after being forcefully taken away by the military to be trained to protect the country. But here they were now after they lost—wandering, constantly moving to avoid getting caught by the ruling government.

They’d left Seoul and been on the road for five months, sometimes spending a few week in camps set up by survivors and what’s left of the original military, listening to their talks of revolutions and fighting back. Hyungwon and Minhyuk didn’t know what to think and feel about the two opposing sides—they hated them equally, for filling their youth with terror, for allowing innocent lives—their parents, siblings—to die for reasons they couldn’t even comprehend.

Hyungwon and Minhyuk, somehow managing to survive the war together, and run away together, had found something that they could call a life, this _something_ that they built together and shared. They had wordlessly settled into each other’s existence, just as easily as they first met (a sixteen year-old Hyungwon had been shoved into the military van right into Minhyuk’s lap, and ever since then they had always been by each other’s side).

They stuck together, now two grown men instead of fragile and faint-hearted teenagers, and created plans for what they were afraid to call the future and walked the deserted streets of the country with a purpose yet to be found. They had created a safe bubble with just the two of them in it. And that was why Minhyuk understood why there was hesitation in Hyungwon’s eyes as they looked at each other, listening to the faint crying that didn’t stop like they hoped it would.

“It’s been five minutes,” Minhyuk said, glancing down at his watch, wiping its dusty glass surface. He adjusted it lower so that it hung loose around his wrist, scratching at the faint red mark it left, where it had been tight and sweaty.

“Maybe the parents left for a while,” Hyungwon said, not looking at Minhyuk.

“Maybe. But would they really leave a baby alone? Can we just check? We can leave once we’re sure that the baby’s not abandoned.”

Hyungwon didn’t say anything, but Minhyuk saw how his jaw clenched. The crying hadn’t stopped, but it was getting weaker, and Minhyuk’s emotions were a mess. He understood Hyungwon’s silence, he _knew_ where the brunette was coming from—he knew that there was a possibility that they would be responsible for another life, that they’d exit whichever house the cry was coming from as three people. Minhyuk understood that they weren’t in the best position for the worst possible outcomes, but he couldn’t just walk away as if they didn’t hear anything. And it was Hyungwon who stopped them, who heard the cry first. If Hyungwon was only going to be like this, he shouldn’t have stopped them in the first place.

And the cry really was getting weaker, and Minhyuk couldn’t waste time arguing within himself, so he gently turned Hyungwon’s face his way and forced the taller to look into his eyes. “Hyungwon-ah, please.”

Hyungwon’s frown deepened, his eyes falling down as he swallowed. He didn’t say anything, but Minhyuk could feel his breath getting quicker.

Minhyuk surged up and wrapped Hyungwon in his arms, smelling sweat and the sun in the skin below his ear. “Please. Please. I won’t be able to live with the regret from just walking away. We’ll just check and then we can leave. Okay? Okay, Hyungwon-ah?”

Hyungwon’s little tremors ceased, and Minhyuk felt his gloved fingers thread into his hair. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Minhyuk pulled away but not too far. He smiled at Hyungwon and kissed him, trying not to linger when Hyungwon tilted his head. “Thank you.”

They got up and hurriedly walked back out into the streets, silent on their feet but keeping their ears open. They seemed to be walking towards the right direction because the wailing cry became a little louder the further they walked into the area.

They could see the broken windows of family houses, upturned buckets and weathered-down, abandoned toys in front lawns, dusty bikes and half open doors. They’d grown accustomed to the eeriness of abandoned towns in broad daylight and scouring through places they could still imagine teeming with people and life. But the silence still got to them, and Hyungwon pulled Minhyuk a little closer to him, gripped his hand a little tighter.

It was thankfully a very short distance from their impromptu shelter earlier. They eventually stood in front of a small house that looked a lot more intact than others; its low, wooden gate slightly open, but the front door was shut completely. Most of the time it was a sign that there were people in the building. The curtains of the front windows were shut, and the porch light was on, weak in the summer afternoon.

Hyungwon and Minhyuk couldn’t tell if there were adults in there—but they were sure there was a baby in there, wails getting weaker and hurting both men’s chest. There was no other option to know but to check, and they stepped into the front yard carefully.

It took all of Minhyuk’s self-restraint to not just barge into the house. The cries were clearer now that they were in front of the house’s door. With bated breath, Minhyuk and Hyungwon listened for any signs of other human beings inside, pressing their ears to the door. They hear nothing but the heartbreaking wails echoing within the house.

Hyungwon tried the traditional door handle, and it opened, the keys stuck on the other side jingling. The baby’s cries got louder and realer now that it wasn’t muffled, and Minhyuk bit his lip, gripped Hyungwon’s hand in his so hard it probably was painful. But Hyungwon didn’t pull his hand away—he was focused on peeking through the gap he had almost soundlessly made.

Minhyuk looked behind his back, checking if there was anyone else—a survival instinct the military had instilled in the core of his very being. If Hyungwon looked forward, Minhyuk was in charge of the back. Everything was so still, not even a breeze to blow at the leaves and bushes and overgrown grass on the small front yard of the house.

Hyungwon squeezed his hand to get his attention, and Minhyuk turned to see the brunette gesturing for their weapons and for them to stay alert as they go inside. Minhyuk undid the safety of his gun and hated how comforting it always felt to have something so deadly in his hands.

The door didn’t as much make a creak as Hyungwon pushed at it with an open palm. A clean looking hallway loomed in front of them. A small part of the wall had its wallpaper peeling, and there were lighter rectangles on the wall with small empty holes where nails used to be. Minhyuk expected to see fallen and broken picture frames, but the floor was clean.

Hyungwon stepped in first, the heel of his combat boot creaking a little on the floor. Minhyuk left the door open, eyes flitting between the inside of the house and outside. On the right side was a set of stairs, and just a little further down the hall was an opening to a room. The baby’s cries had subdued to tired whimpers as Hyungwon and Minhyuk inched closer to it.

Minhyuk was walking backwards, back pressed to Hyungwon’s left shoulder, so he didn’t immediately see what it was that caused Hyungwon’s breath to catch in a gasp. Minhyuk’s heart was in his throat when he whipped his heart, already so afraid of what he’d see, and Hyungwon was saying his name, perhaps to warn him, but it was too late.

Minhyuk felt as if the air in his lungs were knocked out when he saw—a woman, collapsed in front of a wooden crib in a corner of the room. She was curled up on her side, facing the crib, one of her hand stuck between the wooden bars of it.

Minhyuk swallowed, mind reeling and almost stumbling back when Hyungwon’s solid presence left him as he rushed to kneel and check on her first. Minhyuk was still frozen on his spot until Hyungwon looked up to him and shook his head.

As if sensing that there were people nearby, the baby’s weak whimpers picked up into a steady wail. It wasn’t as strong as it was before, but enough to snap Minhyuk out of his shock. Hyungwon’s head snapped to the crib, too. Minhyuk was already on the shorter side of the crib and looking in, holstering his gun, before Hyungwon was even standing straight.

A baby boy, perhaps four to five months old, was kicking weakly, his tear-streaked face red and miserable and Minhyuk gripped the edge of the wooden crib. Minhyuk leaned in to pick him up in his arms, and as the shocked fog cleared in his head, he could finally pick up details with his senses properly. The soft fabric covering the crib smelled of fabric softener, clean, but it was overpowered by the stink coming from the baby, probably the reason of his discomfort.

Minhyuk tried to ignore it—he’d smelled stench much worse than this; hell, he’d seen a dead body, dead bodies, far too many times, in various state of decay. He shouldn’t be weak—not now, but it was difficult because this wasn’t a battleground. There weren’t any explosions and screams that could distract Minhyuk from death. The heavy weight in his hands wasn’t that of an unyielding metal. It was a breathing human being. Alive and in need of his help.

Minhyuk tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over and adjusted his grip supporting the baby’s neck, thumb stroking the unbelievably soft fuzz behind his ear. Minhyuk rocked him, shushed, and looked at Hyungwon looking at them with a pensive frown.

“Hyungwon-ah, the baby—the baby needs to be cleaned up,” Minhyuk said, keeping his eyes on Hyungwon’s face, tried not to look down.

“Do it. I’ll… I’ll be here,” Hyungwon said, and when he looked down Minhyuk couldn’t help but follow.

Minhyuk tried not to think about a face frozen in pain, tried not to think how she must have been so confused and scared, thinking of her child in her dying breath. Minhyuk tried instead to focus on the task at hand—he must find a way to clean up the baby.

Maybe they should’ve checked all of the room first before Minhyuk could roam freely and opened the closed doors and peeked into other rooms in the house. By some miracle the house really was empty, and it just added to the lump in the back of Minhyuk’s throat. Later. He’d mourn and cry and be angry later.

When Minhyuk found a bedroom that looked lived in, and he didn’t let his eyes wander. He carefully set down the baby on the bed pushed onto one wall of the small room. The baby whimpered, and Minhyuk’s eyes zeroed in on a table full of baby supplies. There was only two diapers left in the bright pink plastic for 20.  Minhyuk opened every drawer in the room and found a towel, and he peeked into the adjoined bathroom, and he wet two towels with water, picking up a plastic basin on the sink, and set to work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hyunghyukheon) | [curious 😻](https://curiouscat.me/hyunghyukheon)


End file.
